Vapour pressure — where it appears
Named by 8 essays across 2 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
The height a siphon cannot pass
A siphon will not lift water more than about ten metres, and the usual explanation for the limit is also given as the explanation for the mechanism. It cannot be both. A siphon runs in a vacuum, with degassed water, over a crown no atmosphere could support.
The pore that fills from dry air
Water condenses when the air is saturated — on a flat surface. Over a curved one the vapour pressure is different, higher over a drop and lower over a meniscus, and in a pore a few nanometres across it is low enough that the pore fills with liquid from air at half humidity. The water it holds is under a tension of a hundred megapascals, and the pore empties at a lower humidity than it filled at, for a reason that needs no roughness at all.
The ice that grows by stealing from the droplets
Most clouds colder than freezing are not made of ice. They are made of droplets of liquid water, some tens of degrees below their freezing point, waiting for something to start them freezing. When a few ice crystals do appear among them, the crystals grow and the droplets shrink, without touching, because supercooled water has a higher chemical potential than ice and so a higher vapour pressure: air balanced with the droplets is ten per cent supersaturated, to an ice crystal, at minus ten degrees. A few crystals among a hundred thousand droplets each take everything, grow heavy enough to fall, and that is how most of the rain outside the tropics begins — as snow.
The puddle that could dry in a second
A liquid in equilibrium with its vapour loses molecules exactly as fast as the vapour delivers them, and kinetic theory says how fast that is. For water at room temperature it is two and a half kilograms per square metre every second — a puddle two and a half millimetres deep gone in a second. Puddles take hours because almost every molecule that leaves is knocked back by the air within a fraction of a micrometre. The ceiling binds only where the vapour can escape in a single free flight: in vacuum, where water freezes itself, in the smallest droplets, and on the filament of a lamp.
The entropy every liquid gains on boiling
Divide the heat it takes to boil a liquid by the temperature at which it boils, and for benzene, chloroform, acetone, hexane, ether and carbon tetrachloride the answer comes out within a few per cent of the same number — about ten and a half times the gas constant. Frederick Trouton noticed it in 1884. It is a statement about entropy, and once it is read that way the liquids it fails for become the interesting ones: water and the alcohols, whose hydrogen bonds hold the liquid in order; acetic acid, whose vapour is made of pairs; and helium, whose liquid is already as disordered as quantum mechanics allows.
The column that boils from the middle
Water at the bottom of a geyser's tube is hotter than water anywhere else in it, and it is not the water that boils first. The weight of the column raises the boiling point with depth faster than the heat from below raises the temperature, so the column reaches its boiling curve partway down, under a cooler surface layer. A little boiling there lifts the water above. Everything beneath is then at a lower pressure than the one it was heated under, so it is superheated and flashes, and the eruption feeds itself: past about fourteen centimetres of water thrown out, each slug of steam makes more room than it was given.
The cylinder that must not be cooled
The first steam engines that did useful work, Thomas Newcomen's pumps of 1712, made a vacuum by spraying cold water into a cylinder full of steam. It worked, and on every stroke it cooled the cylinder, so that the next charge of steam condensed on the cold iron until the walls were hot again — several cylinders' worth of steam spent heating metal that the next spray would cool. James Watt saw in 1765 that the vessel was being asked to be hot and cold at once, and moved the cold to a separate condenser. The improvement was a factor of three or four in coal. A century later the reason had a name: heat passing from hot to cold across a large difference, doing nothing on the way, is work thrown away.
The pipe that carries heat as vapour
A copper rod six millimetres across and thirty centimetres long, asked to carry thirty watts from a laptop's processor to its fan, would need its hot end eight hundred degrees above its cold end. The flattened copper tube that actually does the job manages it with less than a degree. It is a heat pipe: sealed, emptied of air, and holding a few drops of water and their vapour. The water boils at the hot end, the vapour rushes to the cold end and condenses, and a wick of sintered copper powder drags the liquid back by capillarity. The heat goes as latent heat, and vapour needs almost no temperature difference to flow — which makes the pipe a thousand times better than copper, as long as its wick can keep up.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Latent heatChemical potentialClausius clapeyronBoiling pointCapillarityCavitationSurface tensionAtmospheric pressureBergeron processBoundary conditionsCapillary condensationCapillary pressure